


darling, can't you see

by Cup_aTea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, ASL, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Typical Danger, Cuddling, Drinking Contest, Fire, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mandatory Fun Day, if that's a thing, mostly offscreen anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 07:39:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cup_aTea/pseuds/Cup_aTea
Summary: Five times Clint impressed James, and one time he scared the pants off of him at the same time.





	darling, can't you see

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](https://mandatoryfunday.tumblr.com/post/188040490941/hi-ok-i-know-you-have-a-lot-of-requests-but#notes) Mandatory Fun Day prompt.

James watched Steve scratch his neck _again_ as another popcorn hull fell on it. He looked over at Barton who was perched behind them on top of a bookshelf.

Barton winked at him and lazily flicked another piece at Steve. James watched it hit Steve’s hair and tumble down onto the sensitive skin of his neck. Steve batted at it, and finally, _finally_ broke.

“Would’ja knock it off, Sam,” he huffed, looking at Wilson, who was sitting sprawled beside him with his arm along the back of the couch.

“Knock what off?” Sam said, looking at him incredulously.

“Tickling my neck, or whatever you’re doing,” Steve said.

“Rogers, if I were touching your neck, believe me: you’d know,” Sam said. 

“Then what…” Steve reached back and came up with one of the pieces of popcorn. “Seriously? You’re putting popcorn down my shirt? Where are you even hiding it, up your sweatshirt sleeves?”

“I swear to god, I haven’t been doing anything to your shirt… Mmrph, Jesus, man, what are you doing?!”

Steve had turned on the couch and tackled Sam into a playful headlock.

James looked back at the bookshelf and found Barton was silently laughing. And that was the first time he looked at Barton and thought, _huh_.

~*~

James was standing in the kitchen with his arms folded, leaning against the counter as if he could transfer the solidity to the others in the room. 

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Clint—soft, human, very unenhanced Clint—was sitting at the table matching Natasha shot for shot of her best vodka. They sat on either side of the table, with Thor in between them like some kind of referee. 

“Never have I ever strangled a man with my own pearls,” Clint said easily, staring Natasha down.

“They weren’t real pearl,” Natasha demurred, but she took her shot. “Never have I ever made it to extraction in only one heel.”

Clint rolled his eyes, but took his shot.

Sometime later, Clint had started to sway in his seat. He was still upright and his expression was as confident as ever, but his eyes were glazed over.

“Never have I ever cheated at poker,” Natasha said.

Clint reached for his shot glass, but frowned. 

“I don’t cheat,” he said. “I just manipulate the deck. An’ I wouldn’t hafta do that if I had cleavage like yours.”

He raised the glass, but paused before it reached his lips.

“Wait. Tha’s not true,” he said. James could hear the slur of the drink bringing out the Midwest in his words. “You cheated in that game in Montenegro.”

“That was an op,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. “We were providing support for the British agent so MI6 would get off our backs.”

“But I would wager that a fair few of Hawkeye’s cheats have been in service of his missions,” Thor said, raising his eyebrow in Nat’s direction.

“Yeah,” Clint said triumphantly.

“So with the way your challenge was worded, Lady Natasha, I would say you cannot exclude yourself, and therefore, you have broken the rules of the game,” said Thor.

“Ha! I win!” Clint said, throwing his arms up in victory.

He nearly fell out his chair the next moment, but James stepped in to catch him.

Natasha grumbled, but conceded, drinking the last shot. When she and Clint stood up, they were both unsteady on their feet.

“Brother James, if you will help our Hawkeye, I will make sure the Lady Natasha makes it safely to her chambers,” Thor said.

James nodded and watched Thor pick up Natasha like she was a feather. She seemed perfectly content to curl into his chest.

James went with the more conventional route of guiding Clint back to his floor and helping him get his shoes off in the entry way. They made a detour into Clint’s kitchen, and James made him slowly drink a full glass of water. Then they slowly meandered their way to Clint’s bedroom.

James had seen Clint’s floor before, but never his bedroom. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but the tangled purple sheets, clothes tumbled out of the closet on to the floor and the little action figures that dotted the bedside table all seemed to fit. 

He waited while Clint got out of his jeans and then into his bed before turning toward the bathroom.

“Ya’ can stay if you want,” Clint said, looking at him hazily.

James paused, swallowing around the words in his throat.

“Not tonight, Clint,” he said instead.

“Kay,” Clint said, and he sounded half asleep.

James refilled the water glass and grabbed some painkillers from the bathroom cupboard. He brought them out and found already Clint sleeping. 

Setting them down, he couldn’t help but look over Clint’s face, so relaxed in sleep. His hair had tumbled down into his eyes, and James reached out to brush it back, hoping that wasn’t a liberty too far.

“You always saw you’re the weakest of us, but you always manage to find a way to keep up,” James murmured. “Can’t even see it…”

He made himself leave after another moment, before he made things strange, before Clint could wake up to catch him staring.

~*~

James panted harshly and let himself slump forward from his side to his stomach. He started to laugh as he fell in the wet spot. 

“Fuck that was good,” he said, still grinning.

“Yeah? Do I know how to fuck you right?” drawled out Clint, nipping at his neck. He was still stretched out behind James, a solid heat pressed along his back.

“Yeah, you do,” James said contentedly.

He groaned a little as Clint slid out, his ass tender from the fucking, and then he burrowed into the sheets.

“Aw, no, babe, don’t fall asleep on me,” Clint said, poking him in the ribs.

James grabbed his hand and pulled it forward so Clint’s arm wrapped around him.

“Can’t help it,” he said, closing his eyes, “you fucked me too good. Gotta sleep.”

“You’re gonna wake up all sticky,” Clint said doubtfully. But he didn’t try to fight James’ hold.

“Shh. Sleep now. Fuck me silly again later,” James said.

He felt Clint chuckle into his hair, but he was already drifting off to sleep.

~*~

James felt like he was going out of his skin at this event at the Maria Stark Foundation for Children. It wasn’t that he disliked children; he just didn’t know what to do around them. He wasn't full of interesting science facts like Banner; he couldn’t impress on them the important of self confidence and self belief like Natasha with her circle of wide-eyed admirers. He certainly couldn’t relate to them on their level—standing in a room of happy, shrieking 3-10 year olds, he was feeling every one of his hundred years.

He shifted restlessly, and then his eyes caught on Clint in the other side of the room. 

Clint was kneeling down in front of kid who looked a little shy, half behind their parent’s leg, and he was signing questions: How old are you? Do you have any brothers or sisters? What’s your favorite color?

The kid looked like they were slowly coming out of their shell, signing back hesitantly at first and then faster and more excitedly, until they were asking Clint what it was like to be Hawkeye.

James stopped following the conversation, but only because his chest and his face felt distractingly warm. It was clear that Clint was just as good as Nat at instilling confidence in these kids, and watching it made James proud. But also, watching the small bright smile on Clint’s face as they talked, watching the careful way he shaped his hands, made James long for something he had never put a name to before.

Clint caught his eye a few minutes later and there was no way James could hold his smile back.

~*~

James kept his hand on the small of Clint’s back not in a show of possessiveness (although he had no problem making a statement that this fine specimen of a man was his partner), but in an effort to keep Clint grounded. His neck was flushing a dark red above his collared shirt, and the blowhard across from them would not take a hint and stop talking.

“No respect for the system what so ever,” the general said. “It’s degenerates like Tony Stark that are causing this county to fall apart.”

Clint was taking long even breaths that James recognized from the field. His hand slipped down from Clint’s back to his side and Clint squeezed it gratefully. James knew a tirade was coming. And he was not disappointed when Clint opened his mouth to reply back.

“As it happens, Tony Stark is not the only useless degenerate on the Avengers team. You might not be aware of this, _General_,” Clint said, fitting as much sarcasm into the title as possible, “but I grew up as an orphan carnie who got all my fighting skills at the circus. I never even finished the fourth grade. I’ve slept with at least as many men and women as Tony has, even though I never had the guts to brag about it. And frankly, the only thing I’ve done with my life is kill people.”

James squeezed Clint’s hand in protest, but Clint ignored it.

“Whereas Tony,” Clint said, his voice getting louder and drawing the attention of the people around them, “Tony has made real progress, not only in his personal life, but in the world. When something terrible happened to him, he picked himself up out of a bad situation, looked around at what his company was doing, and decided to do better.

“Yes, thousands of people have been killed by Stark weapons. But Tony looked at that and decided that wasn’t the only legacy he wanted to leave. He started pioneering green energy, prosthetics technology, and innovative medicines to help thousands of people around the world. He founded the Maria Stark Foundation, which has helped more children in America than the top three other charities combined. He suits up and gets out on the frontlines with us, even though he’s human. Even though he’s getting older. Even though he could fly the suit remotely and keep himself out of danger. And even on his worst day, he could run circles around you when it comes to figuring out a plan. So maybe when you talk about degenerates in this country you should take a look at the people who do nothing. Because Tony sees the problems, and he’s trying to do something about it.”

Throughout his speak, Clint’s grip had tightened on James hand, and James grasped back reassuringly.

Clint leaned into the General’s space. “Don’t ever talk about someone my team like that again.”

Clint pulled his hand out of James’ and stalked out of the room.

James let a bit of the Soldier slide into his stare when he turned to look at the general.

“If you ever upset my partner like that again, I will gut you in your own bed,” he said before slipping past him to find Clint.

Watching his boyfriend tear a pompous asshole a new one was really the highlight of the night. Dropping to his knees in the supply room to suck him off and then later banging Clint so hard some of the supplies fell off the shelves was just the icing on the cake.

+1

James stared at the burning line of buildings. His right hand was clenched around his gun so hard he was surprised it wasn’t shaking. But his body was deadly calm as he watched the flames climb higher as they consumed the walls.

“I’m sure he got out, Buck. There’s probably just an issue with the comms—”

“Don’t,” he snapped in Steve’s direction, not looking away from the inferno.

Part of him desperately hoped that Steve was right. But Tony and Thor were circling above, and hadn’t reported back any sight of Clint. And James knew fire. It was hungry and unending, and you could only outrun it if you had somewhere to go. Inside a building, fire meant falling floors and collapsing ceilings. It meant stairs you couldn’t get to or ones you couldn’t use. Even for someone as agile as Clint, it meant fallen beams and jumps from too-high windows. James couldn’t decide what was worse: imaging the crack of bones when Clint fell, or the crackling of flesh when the flames crept over him. He just hoped he was too far to hear Clint screaming because that would be the thing that would finally drive him mad.

Tony’s voice came across the comm. “Heads up, we’ve got incoming. Jarvis is detecting a motorized vehicle, but he can’t tell what it is.”

James could see and hear nothing beyond the roar of the flames, but he brought his gun to the ready nonetheless.

They stood waiting for a moment, with only the sound of the fire breaking the stillness. Then he picked up the faint whine of a motorbike and he saw a motorcycle break through the line of fire. The cyclist was holding a piece of metal in front of the handlebars like a shield, and they cast it aside as soon as they were clear of the flames.

Clint. It was Clint.

His face was smeared with soot, but James would recognize him anywhere, as he hightailed it out of the fire like a kid on a joyride.

James was running before he knew it, even though his knees felt like jello. Clint pulled the bike up and killed it.

“Pretty epic, huh babe?” he said, grinning his usual lopsided grin.

“Goddamn it, Barton,” James growled. He grabbed Clint by the jacket and pulled him in for a kiss that was more desperate than he wanted to let on. Clint kissed him back just as urgently, holding James close.

“Ewww,” somebody said behind them. “Are they always like this?”

“Mostly. This is a bit more gross than usual though,” Natasha replied.

James pulled back to look Clint in the face. His hair was dirty and singed and his there were tears track on his smudged face below his red eyes. He was in one piece, but it looked like he’d fought like hell to get there.

“Never do that to me again,” James said.

Clint shrugged awkwardly. “Needs must, you know?”

The gesture made James notice his right hand, which was an angry red. James reached for it, but then thought better of it. 

“You hurt yourself,” he said.

“Yeah, holding a piece of metal in a fire will do that,” Clint said almost nonchalantly, shrugging again.

“But your hand,” James said, cradling his own hands around it, but not quite touching.

“I like my bow. But I like living better,” Clint said. “And, you know, I couldn’t leave the kid.”

James looked at where a black haired girl of about fourteen was standing with Nat and an EMT, and having a shock blanket wrapped around her.

“Oh yeah, that’s right! You haven’t met Kate yet. This is Kate. She’s an archer, she’s great. I’m gonna make her my apprentice. She’s going to be better than me!” Clint said.

Kate wrinkled her nose. “Does being your apprentice mean I have to make out with people like a gross person?”

“Not until you’re much older,” Clint said sagely.

Kate still looked put out, but the EMT bundled her into the ambulance. Another EMT was hovering behind Clint, looking like they wanted to move him off the bike, but unsure where to start. James solved the problem by picking Clint up and holding him bridal style in his arms. He headed in the direction that the EMT pointed him in.

“Oh, my prince charming,” Clint said breathlessly.

James looked down at him, trying to see if he was playing it up or if smoke and shock were starting to get to him. It looked like a bit of both.

“You certainly are the damsel in distress this time,” he said.

“But you have to admit I looked really cool,” Clint said.

James just grunted.

“I did though. I look really sexy on a motorcycle,” Clint said as James climbed into the back of an ambulance, maneuvering Clint gently down onto the cot.

“I would be happy to see you on a bike in almost any other circumstances,” James said, taking the oxygen mask the EMT handed him and fitting it over Clint’s face.

“So you’re saying I would look sexy on a motorcycle?” Clint said.

James sighed. “Yes. I think you and motorcycles are a sexy combination.”

“Yeah?” Clint’s face lit up. “Do you think we could make out on a bike sometime? I could get the motor running nice and sweet, and—"

"I think, if you ever want to get laid again, you should stop embarrassing the medical staff so they can help you. And then we’ll talk about how you can make up for scaring ten years off my life,” James said.

He squeezed Clint’s hand then, even though he didn’t mean to. And then he had to move out of the way so the medical team could do their thing. He sat in the corner and focused on his breathing to keep the shitty images of all the bad things that could have happened away.

Clint’s waving hand caught his attention. When he looked, Clint signed 'I love you', mouthing it behind his mask. James felt his eyes water from what surely must have been smoke. He made the sign back, not mouthing the words yet, but his fingers didn’t move from that shape until the ambulance stopped.

**Author's Note:**

> And then they get married beside a lake. Or on a beautiful island with umbrellas in the drinks. Basically, Bucky's only requirement is no bad guys.


End file.
